Photograph hair before washing...

In a shock development Daniel decided to have his hair cut.  About 90% of it.  Given his reaction to scissors has always been a little like a rabid dog to water (see Hair, Hair Everywhere), I am still reeling.  I have to say it looked really good and it was great to see more of my son’s face than just his nose poking through the hair.

However the next day he commits the fatal error of washing it.

Dan:       I can’t get it to look right
Me:        Um
Dan:       Can you try?

All can do with hair is tie it back with an elasticated band and my fears increase as he hands me a tub. 

Dan:       She used some stuff on it
Me:        Oh

Stuff, or the equally non-descriptive Product fills me with dread.  This is a newcomer to our house and until I went grey, the only Extra I’ve used on my hair has been conditioner.  It took me years to come to terms with the idea of hair dye until my husband clinched it, telling me he wasn’t ready for a grey haired wife.  So I’ve put my head down (in the basin) and got on with being brown.

I have no idea how to apply Product, and even less how to tug the hair afterwards into the right shape.   I shun the tub as his hair already feels like cardboard and I’m assuming it’s been Stuffed enough.  Then I try pulling it through all points of the compass, in the chance that one of them might be what he’s after.

It’s not of course, and I feel awful as hope falls from his face.  I’d thought one of the joys of having boys is my ineptitude with hair, makeup and clothes wouldn’t matter.  It does though and I tick another box in the Crap Parent dossier. 

I swallow, admit I’ve failed and suggests he goes back to the hairdresser for instruction.  And I’ll book an appointment too, and see if it's not too late to learn something.